by Ching, G. P.
“Giant bats?” Malini asked.
Jacob shook his head. With his flashlight, he followed an oily blob as it dripped down the wall to the floor in front of them and formed into something that might look like a mangy dog if it wasn’t ten thousand times worse. “Hellhounds!”
Malini yanked Jacob away, cursing as the hounds rained from the ceiling. She’d been right. The light woke them up, and now they would pay the price.
“Come on.” She climbed into the mine cart, tugging him in after her, and lifted the handbrake. He pushed off with one leg, the hellhound’s claws narrowly missing his receding heel. As the cart began to roll, Malini stabbed and swung her blade, back to back with Jacob, trying desperately to keep the oily bodies outside the cart. Slowly but surely, they picked up speed, leaving the hounds panting behind them.
“We’re headed downhill,” Malini said, gripping the sides of the cart until her knuckles turned white. The entire thing shook violently, enough for her to fear the track might come apart.
“The speed isn’t half as bad as where we’re headed,” Jacob said, pointing into the distance where the track bent and then disappeared to be replaced by a wide-mouthed gorge. “Track’s out.”
“Jump!”
One foot on the edge, Malini leapt over, dropping into a roll on the painfully rough ground. Jacob landed next to her and barrel rolled to a stop. “Ow.”
“Shhh. Don’t turn your light back on. Those things are probably right behind us,” she whispered.
“Then how do we get out of here?”
“I don’t know.”
Jacob sighed. She could hear his rhythmic breathing in the darkness. “This is unreal,” he said.
“Don’t give me a hard time, Jake. I’m thinking, all right?”
“No. I mean it. This isn’t real. We are physically in the United Center in Chicago, Illinois. That means everything around us is an illusion. The mummy’s tomb, the treasure, this cavern—it wouldn’t all fit in the space. It’s not real.”
Malini’s mouth dropped open. Why hadn’t she considered that before? This was sorcery and illusion. She grabbed Jacob’s head in the dark and plowed a kiss into the side of his temple. “You are so smart.”
“Huh?”
She hooked two fingers in the crook of her elbow and peeled the flesh from her right hand. Then, concentrating on the magic of her skeletal limb, she thrust it into the wall of the cavern. As predicted, her bones sliced through the stone like butter. When she pulled her hand back, the hole she punched glowed radioactive green, the energy eating away at the stone like a cancer.
“Whoa,” Jacob said.
The cavern melted away, and they found themselves standing on the main floor concourse of the United Center, next to the darkened window of a sports apparel shop. On instinct, Jacob flattened himself against the wall, pulling Malini along with him.
Lucifer’s voice echoed against the concrete, making him jump. “Drink, my children. Drink of me, and I will give you power beyond your wildest dreams.”
Malini’s eyes swept the concourse for the source of the voice, finding a television screen at the entrance to the stadium. Lucifer’s face smiled at her, holding up a wine glass of dark liquid to toast the crowd. He drained the glass, and Malini’s heart sank.
“Lillian’s team didn’t make it. His blood was in the wine. The Watchers have had his flesh; he can cast the spell.”
“We’re too late,” Jacob said.
“A day late and a dollar short,” came a conceited voice from behind them.
Malini whirled to see Damien in a suit that hung like it was made for him and leather shoes that looked soft as butter. Jacob’s sword was already frozen in his grip.
The Watcher folded his hands behind his back and raised his chin. He glared at Jacob’s weapon as if it were a toy. “Do you know how much my businesses are worth?” Damien asked.
Taken aback, Malini shook her head.
“Over one billion. I live where I want. I eat whom I want. I do what I want.”
Malini snorted. “As long as it serves Lucifer.”
Damien’s face fell. “It wasn’t always so. The Wicked Brethren have, in the past, served their own masters.”
“Greed,” Jacob said. “You serve greed.”
Damien bowed at the waist. “The thing about money is it can buy you anything else in this world. I had a good thing going before the evil bastard started yanking my chain.”
“Get to the point, Damien.”
“The point is that it was never in our contract that I should have to fight the Healer directly. I feel that this situation is a breach of what I agreed to and a threat to my viability.” He stroked the lapel of his suit with his palm.
“Are you going to let us go without a fight?” Jacob scoffed at the thought.
Damien pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “I am a businessman. I do not fight with fists but with words, with deals. I wish to offer you an agreement.”
“Which is?” Malini asked.
“I let you go now with the understanding that, should the tide turn in your favor, you will do the same for me.”
“Never,” Jacob said self-righteously.
Damien ignored Jacob and turned the full force of his stare on Malini. “Think about it, girl. I am not your typical Watcher, growing fat and lazy on prisoners in Nod. I have lived above ground since Lucifer’s fall. There are some who compare my power to his. We could fight, and it is true that you would likely win, considering I’d have to pull you apart to kill you and your blood would burn me like acid. But in the time it takes you to fight me, Lucifer will have cast his spell. Thousands of Watchers will have accepted his curse. You will never make it out alive.”
“So if I take your agreement?”
“I turn my back as you go about your business, and should God win the challenge, you do the same, for me. Deal?”
Malini stared into Damien’s gray eyes and scanned his meticulously kept clothes. “Deal.”
“Malini?” Jacob looked at her as if he’d never seen her before.
Damien gave her a short salute. “Nice doing business with you.” He folded into the nearest shadow and was gone.
“How could you do that?” Jacob asked incredulously.
She grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hall to the nearest restroom. “Because, Jacob, he was right. We don’t have time for a fight. And besides, if the rest of this mission goes as planned, I won’t be the one to kill him.”
Chapter 27
Asher
Dane shifted from foot to foot, wishing he could be the one to step through the flap of the circus tent to whatever lay beyond. But he was the liability here, powerful yet powerless. It made sense for Ethan to lead the way. He could use his telekinesis from a safe distance against anything that attacked.
Only, now that Dane thought about it, the real danger of the labyrinth wasn’t what attacked them from afar but the lure of the illusions that drew them in.
“Have you guys noticed that everything in this labyrinth is sexual?”
Ethan paused at the threshold and glanced over his shoulder at Dane. Lillian and Cheveyo had to pull up short to stop from plowing into him.
Dane continued. “On the city street, the stripper in the window appeared when Cheveyo touched the glass. Her appearance was engineered to be exactly the type of woman he was attracted to. If we hadn’t been there, he would have been centipede chow.”
Cheveyo’s head bobbed. “Yep. Totally sucked into her spell. I can’t explain it.”
“And the fishbowl. There was nothing but a stream of bubbles in there until Lillian and I touched the glass. Then, before we know it, we are all stripping down to our skivvies to feed ourselves to the eels.”
The bright blush on Lillian’s face voiced her agreement. She scratched behind her ear. “The male looked like Charlie to me, Jacob’s dad.”
“And looked like Ethan to me,” Dane said.
Ethan laughed. “
It looked like you.”
“So the only reason I was able to save your asses was because I didn’t touch the glass. All I saw was a male and female merfolk. They didn’t look like anyone to me.”
“Exactly.”
Lillian’s eyes darted around the tent. “This place isn’t real. It’s all sorcery, illusion.”
“Not just sorcery. Sorcery based on lust,” Dane said, raising an eyebrow.
“Asher.” Ethan placed his hands on his hips.
“Exactly what I was thinking,” Dane said.
“So, how do we get out of here?” Cheveyo asked Lillian. As the matriarch of the group, it was natural they looked to her for answers.
She shrugged. “Evil sorcery can only be negated with something equally good. Malini’s hand, an angel’s touch. Good and evil cannot exist in the same place at the same time.”
“Like how my power works,” Cheveyo said.
“Exactly, although I’m not sure you could possess the labyrinth itself,” Lillian said.
“Maybe we can make it through and find our way out, now that we know the secret. Don’t touch any glass,” Ethan said.
In a sea of darting glances, no one seemed to want to move, until, finally, Lillian motioned Ethan on with a small wave of her hand.
“Cool. Let’s do this, then.” He pushed through the flap and led the way into the dim corridor made of canvas.
Dane followed at the rear of the group, dagger in hand. For some reason, knowing Asher was behind these tests didn’t put him at ease. In fact, his heart raced and his palms sweat. When he stopped to think about it, he would have chosen any of the Wicked Brethren over Asher. He’d spent much of his life denying his sexuality, and even now, with Ethan, he’d chosen to remain celibate to give their relationship time to mature.
What if all of the waiting had left him a throbbing, raw hormone that would cave at the slightest provocation? Sure, he’d like to believe his virginity made him stronger. When he shared that piece of himself with someone, it would be precious and permanent. That’s why Asher scared him so much. Losing himself to lust, when he’d waited so long for the person who would be his permanent partner, would be the ultimate self-betrayal. He swallowed hard, resolved to make it out of here in the same state he entered.
“What the?” Ethan said. “So much for sticking to the plan. There’s no glass in this room.”
At the back of the line, Dane couldn’t see what Ethan saw, but he could hear the whooshing of falling canvas behind him. “The corridor is collapsing,” he yelled, pushing into Cheveyo, who forced Lillian and Ethan forward. The entire tent collapsed behind him, brushing down his back as he entered the next challenge just in time.
The floor gave slightly under his feet as if he were walking on a thick gymnastics pad. He glanced down to find red silk sheets layered under his shoes. The red silk didn’t stop at the floor. It cascaded up the walls and lined the ceiling of the circular room. Swaths of it draped from ceiling to floor in random intervals. Large square silk pillows were scattered around the room.
“There’s no way out,” Lillian said.
“Maybe behind one of the curtains?” Cheveyo said, reaching for the edge of one.
“Don’t touch that, man,” Ethan said.
“We can’t stand here forever,” Cheveyo argued.
Dane held up his dagger and moved toward the wall. With the tip, he pushed aside the drapes one by one. No exit presented itself, but as he removed his dagger, the drapes began to sway.
“Whoa,” Cheveyo said, gaze darting toward his feet.
The entire floor roiled, and Dane bent his knees to surf the wave. “Looks like we stirred up the snakes.”
Ethan pointed to the corner of the room. A human body danced beneath the silk, a woman with long limbs and large breasts. The silk skimmed over her skin. A dark head of hair broke the surface of the sheets, followed by pale skin and large brown eyes. She smiled, clutching the silk to her collarbone as she arched her back beneath the fabric.
Cheveyo cleared his throat. “I’m going to close my eyes,” he squeaked.
Dane chose to look away, but in the opposite direction, the muscles of a man’s back broke the surface, flexing and stretching, the silk catching just below the dimples of his hips.
“Cover your eyes,” Lillian said. “It’s started.”
Dane did, pressing his palm into his face. It didn’t help. Two silky hands worked their way over his feet and up his shins. A hand caressed the inside of his thigh, sending a shiver to the base of his scalp. His knees buckled. He caught himself on his thigh, fighting the urge to lie down in the soft massaging coils of silk. “It’s touching me,” he said.
“Me too,” Cheveyo said. “This is freaking me out. It’s snakes. You know they’re probably snakes.”
The thought of snakes brought Dane to his senses. His spine straightened, and he remembered the dagger in his hand. It was a blessed weapon from Eden. Perhaps if he stabbed it into the floor, he could shred this illusion. Then again, touching the dagger to the silk had been a disaster. What he needed was something good and pure. Something that would send the evil of this place running.
Something like Soulkeeper blood.
Silk hands rubbed up his back, over his shoulders, pulling him down toward the floor. “I’m going to try something,” Dane said. Eyes tightly closed, he pressed his dagger into his opposite palm and squeezed. There was a sharp pain and then warm, wet blood oozed and dripped from his fist.
Screeching pierced his ears. He opened his eyes. Where his blood fell, the illusion came apart stitch by stitch. He looked to the others. Cheveyo was doing all right, but Ethan and Lillian were on their hands and knees in the silk.
“Cheveyo, help Lillian,” Dane said. “Use your blood. Soulkeeper blood damages the illusion.”
Dane raced to Ethan’s side to help him up.
“No,” Ethan howled, slapping his hand away.
“Ethan, it’s me,” Dane said. “Oh hell.” He held his still bleeding hand just over the patch of silk around Ethan. “Open your eyes.”
Ethan did, gasping in relief as the silk came apart strand by strand, replaced by cold, hard concrete. “Thank God. I thought you were one of them.”
“Our blood breaks the spell,” he said again. Turning, he saw that Cheveyo had jumped in to help, cutting his forearm and destroying his section of the tent. He’d also helped Lillian to her feet. Standing together, he watched the last bits of the illusion come apart, replaced by the concrete walkway of an upper level of the United Center, just outside a ramp to the seating within. The hideous cheers of thousands of Watchers tumbled out at their feet.
“We made it,” Lillian whispered. “We’re in the stadium.”
Clap. Clap. Clap. Asher stepped from the shadows, dark wings stretched behind his rock-star good looks. He plunged his hands into the pockets of his skinny jeans. “I’m almost impressed the four of you survived my challenge. Then again, I hadn’t expected that two of you would be so annoyingly innocent. Lust begins in the mind, you know. Hardly entertaining to be prudish.”
With her daggers in hand, Lillian stepped in front of Dane, prepared for an attack. Asher’s face fell. “As a rule, I’m a lover not a fighter.” He eyed Lillian from toes to breasts but stopped before he reached her face. “Unfortunately, Lucifer would digest me if I let you go. He’s at an important stage in his work and cannot be disturbed.”
“Then bring it on, oil-slick,” Ethan said.
Asher spread his wings, fangs dropping as he hissed. Fire flew from his hand, orange and red and hot enough to send Dane diving over the nearest counter to avoid the blast. Ethan blocked the flow of fire with his mind while Lillian hurled her blades into Asher’s chest and side. He didn’t let up. Instead, the flamethrower technique blasted from his other hand, straight at Lillian. She flipped behind a hot dog cart.
Sheltered by a row of beer taps, Dane watched the flames melt the canopy and the plastic smiling hot dog off the front of Lillian’s h
iding place. Crap, she wouldn’t last long in that. And Asher seemed to have an endless amount of firepower. Ethan was sweating from the effort of holding back the heat. Cheveyo … Where was Cheveyo?
The Hopi boy emerged from a women’s bathroom behind Asher. He must have ducked into the entrance next to the beer vendor and walked through. He tiptoed toward Asher’s back, a finger over his lips. As if Dane was going to announce his attack or something.
“Ahh!” Ethan screamed as his nose began to bleed and Asher’s flames licked one side of his face. He fell to his knees and then collapsed to the ground.
“Now!” Dane yelled at Cheveyo. Asher narrowed his eyes in Dane’s direction, giving Ethan a half-second of relief. Cheveyo’s body hit the floor.
The flames stopped. Asher grabbed his throat, bending at the waist and heaving.
“Not going to throw that one up,” Dane said, rushing to Ethan’s side. He tucked his partner’s burnt face into his shoulder. “Hold your breath.”
The oily explosion that filled the corridor was the biggest he’d ever seen.
Chapter 28
Hope’s End
Bonnie bit her bottom lip as she watched Cord tangle with Levi. Angel against Watcher, the two forces of nature collided, showering the corridor with red and purple fireworks. She’d been here before. Behind the Quik N Smart, she’d watched Levi almost destroy Cord before he was able to escape through the sunlight.
Cord couldn’t run now. He had to protect her and Hope, to see the Soulkeepers’ mission through.
In a blur of darkness, Levi dropped to the floor and kicked under Cord’s sword, into his gut. The angel soared into the concrete wall of the concourse, weapon dissipating on impact. Cord slumped to the floor, silver-white blood oozing from a gash on the side of his head.
Levi shook his dark waves and swaggered in Cord’s direction. “Pity you weren’t more of a challenge. I’d heard the Watcher Cord was truly terrible. Looks like the Great Oppressor clipped your wings.”
Cord floundered, attempted to stand, but couldn’t. A tear welled over Bonnie’s lower lid, her heart pounding at the sight. That monster, Levi, was going to kill him. He raised his burning blade over Cord’s heart. Weeping, Bonnie squeezed Hope to her.
